Blind Are The People
Another throw off of the edge
Abandons flow--away the pledge;
Morality etches at the brain
While the guilty play a game.
But what is wrong shall change in time,
And no longer be a sinful crime,
Throwing our world over the edge
Into a place devoid of sin.
The angels overhead concede
For the lies are buried deep within.
The fibers of existance bleed
Until we find a way to see.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.